


All the Ways a Mouth Can Smile

by lily_lovely



Category: Dollhouse
Genre: Dark, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-05
Updated: 2009-03-05
Packaged: 2017-10-03 18:13:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lily_lovely/pseuds/lily_lovely
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who will it be?</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Ways a Mouth Can Smile

Topher smiles up at her hopefully from underneath his shaggy hair. It reminds her of a puppy begging for treats, and it makes her smile gently in reply.

His smile grows wider. "So you'll do it?"

Claire makes a show of sighing and rolling her eyes, but she knows that she looks giddy even as she pretends to be exasperated. "I'll see what I can do, Mr. Brink."

She starts to turn around, but she feels a hand at her elbow, stopping her. She looks back, and sees Topher's smile take on something..._else_ to it. It makes her breath catch a little.

"Please. Call me Topher."

As she walks away to talk to Adelle about the new software, she can feel the smile stay on her face.

***  
"So, Mr. Langton, you're Echo's new Handler, is that right?" She can't help staring at him; he's got this presence to him.

He seems haunted by something, and it reminds her of someone, but she can't recall who.

"Yes."

He's rather taciturn, but the little he does say comes out in a voice that should read audio books. She feels like a silly teenager who has a crush on her teacher.

"Well, all your vitals check out just fine. Everything seems to be normal. You're ready to go whenever Echo's next engagement is."

"Thank you, Dr. Saunders. Ah—can I ask you a personal question?"

She stuffs her hands into the pockets of her lab coat to hide the way they shake. "Of course."

"Why did you take this job?"

Claire stares at the ground, unable to face him as she answers. "Someone has to take care of them."

She looks up in time to see him smile, in a way that says he was hoping she would say that.

Something in her chest flutters, and she covers her smile by looking down at her clipboard.

***  
Adelle watches the children play their games. It brings a small, quiet smile to her face.

Their fumblings at romance, their attempts to find comfort in a cold world reminds her of who she used to be. Someone who thought that peace could be found in someone else's body, in sweet silences, in crinkly-covered chocolates.

Now she knows that the only way to be happy is to crush everything else in her path until she gets to the bright, shining top of it all.

Seeing their innocence brings simpler times to mind.

She doesn't wish to go back to them, of course, but...

...sometimes it's nice to remember.

***  
Claire sits in her apartment, reading a romance novel.

She's sure her mother would faint if she knew she'd picked up the latest Nora Roberts, but she can't stand anything serious or thoughtful, after hours of moral quandaries and difficult choices.

Here, everything is cut and dry, black and white; nothing is in between. The woman either falls in love with the handsome, mysterious stranger, or with the man she's known for years.

It's nothing like real life, and that comforts her.

She hears a knock on the door. Frowning, she tosses the book aside, and gets up to answer it.

Claire's shocked when she sees Topher standing there. "Uh—Topher! What are you doing here?"

She suddenly wishes she weren't wearing her old sweatpants right now, but it's not like anyone visits her here normally.

"Hey, Claire—um, I was just wondering if you..."

Her heart leaps in her chest; she can feel herself leaning forward and smiling girlishly, but she doesn't care. "Yes? Wondering if I'd what?"

But instead of answering, he lowers his head shyly. "Oh, nothing. I just wanted to thank you for...getting the software for me." He looks up again, smiling shakily. "I appreciate it."

She forces a plasticine grin to cover her disappointment. "It's no trouble."

Topher turns away, but she can't stand to let him go like that; what if he never visits her again? "Are you sure there wasn't something else?"

He turns back around. Time seems to slow until each footstep that brings him back to her is like a century.

She doesn't think it's healthy for her heart to beat this fast. What if she has a heart attack before he can get to her? He's so far away...

He pauses in front of her, letting out a shaky breath.

Then his hand is on her cheek, and he's giving her a kiss, and it feels nothing like any of the others she's had. It's soft and sweet, full of unspoken promises.

By the time she opens her eyes, he's already started to walk away.

She slumps against the door frame, exhilarated by what he'd done and infuriated by what he hadn't.

***  
Claire smiles at the Doll sitting in the chair. She's found that it's very important to keep her emotions positive around them, or else they pick up on it and try to make her feel better. Like children.

It's a well-meaning instinct, but it always bothers her when they ask her how she's feeling, like they're her own personal team of therapists.

It makes her feel like they're always watching her.

So she smiles, even though all she can think about is Topher. Or Boyd; it depends on the moment.

Claire slowly lifts the Active's arm into the air, testing for injuries. "How does this feel, Juliet?"

Juliet looks out the window. "Fine," she says distractedly. Then her face takes on an innocent shade of delight. "Flowers!" she cries out.

Claire turns to see one of the janitors holding a bouquet that says "Alexa's Flowers" all over the wrapping.

Her heart leaps into her throat as she stares at them; zinnias and daffodils and tulips and lilies, in a rainbow of colors. They must have cost a fortune.

The employee sets them down on the table with a wry smile. "_Someone_ put these outside your apartment door with the mail."

He starts to walk away, calling out, "Make sure you put them in a nice vase!" as he leaves.

She puts Juliet's arm down carefully, walking towards the gift in a daze. She picks up the card, not sure who she wants it to be from.

"Someone has to take care of you – Boyd," she reads out loud. A giggle escapes her throat without warning.

She hears a responding laugh come from behind her, and she turns around to find Juliet beaming sappily at her. "Somebody likes you," she says in a sing-song voice.

Claire puts the card back, and walks back toward the chair. "We'll finish your check-up now."

But all she can think about while she rotates Juliet's neck is where she's going to put the flowers.

***  
Adelle hurries into the back room attached to her office, hoping that she hasn't already missed it. The buffoon of a potential client kept her in the office fifteen minutes longer than he should have, asking anxious, endlessly inane questions about the kinds of Actives they supplied.

It's supposed to happen soon. She would be so very cross if she had set this all up, only to be blind to the fruits of her labor.

The cameras aren't here for security; there's a separate room for that, one where employees watch the cameras all day in shifts.

These are for Adelle's...personal use.

She types coordinates into the keyboard frantically until the right footage appears on the screens.

She steeples her fingers, and leans back in her chair.

Tonight's show should prove _particularly_ interesting.

***  
Claire peeks around the door frame, and finds a shaken Boyd standing on her doorstep.

He looks up at her with the most broken eyes she's ever seen. "Can...can I come in, Dr. Saunders?"

Her brain switches back into gear. Right; she has to take care of this man.

She knows how to take care of people.

"Oh, of course! Follow me. It's not much, but feel free to make yourself at home."

He smiles gravely. "Thank you, Dr. Saunders."

She sits down next to him, carefully taking his hand, in a way that she hopes seems purely therapeutic and clinical. "Please. Call me Claire."

And just like that, it all comes pouring out:

how Echo went out on what was supposed to be a simple romantic engagement;

how the man turned out to be a crazy-ass son of a bitch psycho sadistic rapist;

how Adelle insisted that there was no danger to Echo and told Boyd to refrain from intervening;

how Boyd had to _watch_ on the cameras as that insane motherfucker _raped_ her;

how;

howhowhowhow—

"Sssh, it's all right, Boyd. It'll all be okay. Everything's fine."

Claire doesn't know what to say beyond that. That Echo won't remember it? That it didn't really happen?

How could that be a comfort, when they were really doing?

So she just lets him cry against her, rubbing the back of his head and whispering meaningless platitudes that can't solve any of their problems.

And she realizes that the person Boyd reminds her of is _herself_.

***  
A gentle knock came at the door. "Uh, Claire? I, uh, I wanted to apologize for what I did yesterday—I shouldn't have just run off like that—can we talk?"

Boyd stirs next to her, and Claire's brain reverts to a primal, adrenaline-driven form.

get—shirt.  
put it on.  
if –buttons do not function  
fuck the buttons—  
I don't care if he thinks I'm a slut—  
there's a naked man in my bed.  
hide—panties.  
where should I hide the panties?  
behind the couch.  
hide—flowers.  
how do I hide the flowers?  
oh, whatever, I'll say they're from a relative.  
look—presentable   
smooth hair  
arrange mouth so it smiles  
get brain—working right again.

Claire rushes to the door, opening it quickly before dashing outside. "Hi, Topher! Um, this isn't really a good time, so maybe we could do this—"

"No, no, I have to do this now, or I never will. Look, Claire, I lov—"

"Oh, Topher, you don't mean that."

"Yes, I do! I think about you all the time, and when I do, I—hey, what's that sound? Is there someone else in the apartment?"

***  
Adelle always loves seeing how it ends. Because no matter how delicately she arranges the situation, she can't predict the outcome.

Who will it be? Boyd or Topher?

It's like rolling a die, and she can't stop gambling now that everything's at stake.

She watches, small smile playing on her lips, as the dominoes fall.

_Topher rushing into the apartment, his face falling as he sees that Claire has slept with Boyd, Claire trying to soothe both of the men, who start to yell about which of them deserves Claire's affections._

It's like a puzzle, she thinks—she puts the pieces together, but she doesn't know what it will look like until the last one is in.

_Claire putting her hands on both of their arms as they grow angrier, voices getting louder—the sound of a hand slapping a cheek. Claire staring at Topher in shock, moving behind Boyd..._

Adelle glows with satisfaction. It always surprises her how _nicely_ it works out in the end.

But she can' very well let Topher be beaten into a bloody pulp. She presses a button on her headset, and says, "Laurence, go to Apartment 351 and take the three people who are in it to the imprinting room."

As she makes her way to the imprinting room, she's already thinking about what she should put in them next. Make Claire fall in love with an Active, possibly?

***  
Claire sits in the chair, waiting for the woman who gives her the treatment to come. She thinks about the Dolls.

They're like boxes, really; that's the best metaphor for them. They're always the same person, but different things are put inside them each time they get imprinted.

She wonders whether it's the box that defines them, or what's inside.

Then Ms. DeWitt is standing in front of her, smiling, and the chair moves back, and everything she was thinking slips slowly out of her mind.

***  
Claire looks up at her with a lazy, stupid smile on her face. "Did I fall asleep?"

Adelle smiles in return, knowing that she looks the wolf to Claire's sheep, and not caring. "For a little while."


End file.
